


Shielded

by FluffyGremlin



Series: Bulletproof [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:46:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyGremlin/pseuds/FluffyGremlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has the internet AND Derek up against a pole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shielded

**Author's Note:**

> [Vale](http://starskeeper.tumblr.com) asked for more porn. I live to serve.

Derek doesn’t even bother rolling his eyes when Stiles pushes past him into the loft, instead just closing the door patiently behind him and following him into the open space. The teen is already pacing by the time Derek chooses a pole to lean back against to watch.

“Hi, Stiles. How are you, Stiles? Why aren’t you in school, Stiles?” He snorts when Stiles just flaps a hand at him and turns to make another pass. Derek let’s him go another 2 and a half times before speaking up again. “Stop.” Stiles pauses, fists clenched at his sides. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles turns on his heel and gives Derek a look that screams ‘duh!’. “My Dad’s going to shoot you. With, like, adamantium bullets.” Derek nods slowly and Stiles grumbles before stepping a bit closer and yanking the collar of his shirt aside to show one of the bruises Derek has left the other day. “See, someone, that’s you, decided that someone else, that’s me, needed to be marked like... like a dog pissing on... something, which is gross and...” Stiles pauses and his eyes go just off center before snapping back to Derek’s. “Nope, still gross.”

“So your Dad is going to shoot me because I gave you a hickey?” Derek reaches out and runs his thumb over the mark. He can’t help but smirk when Stiles stutters a bit before continuing.

“With adamantium bullets.” Derek’s about to ask how the Sheriff would even know _who_ to shoot but the fact that he’s _The Sheriff_ probably explains a lot. “Because I may have told him that you did it because he asked and I lie to him enough and... What?”

Derek can’t bite back the laugh anymore at Stiles’ confused face. “You told the Sheriff of this town that an older man gave you a hickey? Do you want me arrested? Again?”

“No but I also told him that we didn’t do anything else because you’re waiting until my birthday next month. Wanting to protect my virtue, yadda yadda yadda.” Derek nods and presses down on the bruise slightly, enough to get Stiles’ eyes to go half closed.

“And not get arrested. Again.” Stiles just nods and Derek pulls him forward and wraps his other arm around the teen’s waist. “Or _shot_.” Stiles at least pretends to look chagrined as he pushes his hands under the hem of Derek’s shirt.

“I figured ‘Hey, Dad, I’m not totally straight and by the way my boyfriend is Derek Hale’ was better than ‘Derek Hale pushed me up against a door and made me come so hard I had to jerk off before I got home because I could still feel his hands around me’.” Derek groans and drops his head against Stiles’ shoulder.

“What about your virtue?” he murmurs into body warmed cotton. Each breath brushes over the edge of the largest bruise and he can feel the way Stiles’ hands keeps tensing and relaxing against the skin above his waistband.

“Virtue smirtue.” Derek straightens up to find Stiles wiggling his eyebrows in a way that’s probably meant to be seductive.

The older man rolls his eyes finally and leans in to run his nose along Stiles’ jaw. “Your Dad’s probably on his way here with the shotgun right now.”

“Nah,” Stiles shudders against him, “he probably has the AK the SWAT team keeps for mountain lion attacks.” Derek growls into Stiles neck and pulls him in tighter against his body. “Honestly, I think they just keep it around because it feels good to get such a... big weapon... in your hands.” The grunt that slips out of Derek as Stiles pushes against the erection growing behind his button fly is tempered with a choked laugh. 

He groans as long fingers splay out over his crotch and meets Stiles eyes to see all of the joking burned away. Stiles just nods at all of his unasked questions and grins crookedly before sliding his other hand around and tugging at Derek’s buttons. “Yea,” the boy breathes out, leaning in for a moment to lick at Derek’s lips before pulling back again. “I need...”

“Stiles...” The teen nods again before dropping to his knees and tugging the jeans open and down Derek’s hips. Derek reaches back and digs his fingers into the post behind him when his boxers follow.

“I have the internet,” Stiles says as he reaches up to bracket Derek’s hardening cock with both hands. “And an active imagination.” He runs the tips of his fingers along the dip of Derek’s hips and follows the line to the head of his cock where it’s beginning to push out of his foreskin. Derek starts to say something, demanding or begging or somewhere in between, when Stiles darts forward and runs his tongue along the same path his hands at followed. Every word comes out as a grunt after that point and it’s only another drawn out moment before the teen wraps one hand around the base of his cock and his lips around the head.

Stiles doesn’t move far when he begins to bob his head but his mouth is hot and wet and sucking hard enough that his cheeks hollow. Derek reaches down and rests one hand against the back of Stiles’ head, fingers digging in slightly as the teen hums in pleasure around him. His head drops back against the pole as Stiles reaches up under Derek’s shirt and digs his nails into his stomach hard enough that Derek wishes he could break skin, bruise him, mark him just a little.

“Fuck, Stiles,” he grunts out, hips moving forward each time Stiles pulls back. Stiles stops clawing at Derek’s stomach and the older man tilts his head to the side enough to watch as Stiles undoes his own button and zipper with quick movements, never once stopping sucking Derek’s cock. Derek starts moving quicker as Stiles wraps a hand around his own cock and they match each other’s rhythm, Stiles moaning around Derek and Derek cursing every god he knows.

“You need...” he moans low in his throat and pulls at Stiles’ head, “I’m going to... fuck...” It’s all the warning he can manage before all that is _Stiles_ echoes through his brain and spills out of him. His eyes are clenched shut but he can feel the way Stiles tries and fails to swallow everything, the teen’s breath hitching as he coughs and pulls off enough to lean against Derek’s thigh.

The older man opens his eyes in time to see Stiles look up at him, fucking into his own fist as their eyes meet and all Derek can see is his own come on Stiles’ chin and the mess that quickly coats the floor. Stiles nearly bites through his lip as he comes.

“Oh my god,” he whimpers as Derek drags him to his feet without any effort and spins them so that Stiles is the one pressed against the pole. He clutches at Derek as the other man puts both hands on his face and holds him so that Derek can lick along his chin and into his mouth. He bites at the flush that’s painted over Stiles’ neck before going back to his mouth. The werewolf can taste himself and smell Stiles and the only thing that makes it better is when Stiles stops moaning and starts grinning instead.

“Adamantium bullets,” the teen whispers. Derek tries to snort but all that comes out is a sound that’s far too approving and half sentimental as he runs his tongue up Stiles’ neck again.

“I’ll get a vibranium shield the next time I go shopping.” Stiles pushes at Derek and forces the other man to back up, causing him to stumble slightly as the jeans still around his knees trip him up. The teen’s eyes narrow for a moment before he begins to laugh so hard Derek’s almost concerned that he’s about to choke.

“Oh. My. God! You’re a closet comic book geek!”

 _Almost_ concerned.


End file.
